


I Might Be In Love With You: I'm waiting until I'm sure to tell you

by EmilysRose



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dauntless Faction, Dauntless Faction Initiation, F/M, Learning to Fight, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slow Build, Smut, Teasing, roleplaying, sexual frustation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilysRose/pseuds/EmilysRose
Summary: Four tries to take care of Tris when shes hurt. He takes care of her with his tongue.





	I Might Be In Love With You: I'm waiting until I'm sure to tell you

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally part of a very long, drawn out AU fic and I like it better with just the sex--so it's just sex. No plot.
> 
> Tris is also NOT a virgin, and is very ready for sex, unlike cannon.
> 
> I forgot who beats Tris up in the initiation ring, but the scene happens after that. Which is why she's all beat up.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6QZn9xiuOE

I woke up in warm, clean sheets.

I groaned, hating how even that motion was painful. It sent aches throughout my body, reminding me of the punishing thing I’d forced itself into. I didn’t know what was worse—opening my eyes and feeling like I was spinning in concrete, or closing them and spinning in darkness.

Next to me, Four’s deep, male voice laughed. “Morning, sunshine.”

“Ow. Shh—” I hissed. Noises hurt.

I tried to peak up at him. He was sitting next to me on the bed, reading through papers that looked like reports of some kind, marking them with a pen. He put them aside as I closed my eyes. I felt his weight shift, and then his voice, much softer than before, was grumbling to my ear. “You know, you need to learn to play dead when someone’s obviously stronger than you.” His lips brushed the shell of my ear as he spoke, his breathe tickling me enough to send a shiver down my body.

Even aching and half-dead, I still felt it, that shivering of need. Like something in my body had slowly woken up, warming and wetting me, tightening my muscles as all more pores opened, one by one, flushing my skin. “Ah—”

“Shhh.” I could feel his fingertips trail lighting on sensitive skin. He hardly even touched my ribs, but it was enough to make them ache. “Shhh—baby girl. It’s okay. Just rest. You can explain your idiocy later.”

“Not—idiocy. Bravery.”

He laughed, waking my body up more, despite the throbbing my head. “Bravery is  _not_  letting someone beat you unconscious, Tris. I think you need to learn a little about what being dauntless means.” I tired to open my mouth, but his fingers did a gentle tapping pattern on my ribs, and I hissed, twisting away. The twisting away hurt more than his fingers, and his hand grabbed my hip, holding me back down onto the bed. “For one.” His voice changed, not coming from my ear anymore, but to hover over me. “Being brave enough to admit you need help, or that you can’t do something—is  _strength_. For two,” I opened my eyes. Well, one eye. The other was sealed shut. I watched his somber face hover over mine, his eyes glowing in the underwater light. “For two, nothing about getting this badly hurt is dauntless.”

 

“It’s not like I could help _that_ ,” I hissed. “Eric—”

 

“I’ll deal with Eric.” His voice left no compromise.

I reached my hand up, feeling for his face. Feeling the ever-present stubble that had grown just a little bit longer than I was used to. “I missed you.” That’s not what I’d meant to say—but it’s what came out.

He smiled, leaning into my hand. “I missed you too, Tris. Lucky me that when I finally get home, it’s to realize you’re in the infirmary.”

“Where did you go?” My voice was a harsh, grating thing. As if she’d managed to choke my throat, after beating my face in.

“Stuck up with the Techies, checking security.” He rolled his face, kissing my palm gently. Shivers ran down my spine at the feel of his lips. “How convenient, that Eric want me to test security today.” He leaned in closer, so we shared breaths. “How do you feel?”

“Achy.” I rubbed my legs together, as if it could help the sudden flush of feeling between my legs. It was the first time in nearly a month that I’d been close to a man. In a bed, smelling the scent of his skin, feeling the strength of his hovering above me, his calluses on my skin.

He didn’t miss the motion. His eyebrows lifted. “You’ve just woken up after getting knocked out… and you’re thinking about sex?” He seemed baffled.

I couldn’t nod, nodding hurt. Instead, I reached for his arm, feeling the shape of him under my hand as I ran it up his biceps. “It’s… been a while.” I rasped, running my fingers across his collar bone. “And you’re shirtless. It’s nice.”

His smirk was all male satisfaction. “You look like shit, you do know that right?” I slapped the skin under my hand, feeling him laugh above me. “But I suppose I can accommodate.” I watched, my heart beating as fast as if I was back in the fighting ring—as he propped his head on his hand and his fingers trailed over my exposed belly. I was wearing a bras, and underwear—nothing else. The sheets were tangled in my legs, my thighs exposed to the air. “You have been really good, other than flirting with poor Albert.”

“How—”

“It’s hard to hide from the wandering eye of the brave.” He murmured. His fingers wove patterns on the skin of my belly.

“I’ve heard something like that, before.” I clamped my legs together, my hand smoothing up and down his tattooed forearm as he nodded.

“The entire compound is wired with cameras. We have more of them than Erudite.” He grinned, his eyes never leaving the patterns he made on my belly. “Which means I at least ten or twelve on shift saw you sneaking away in the middle of the night to the bath so you could masturbate the other day.” He laughed as I groaned.

“And this place… is it…”

“No. I disabled them. Doesn’t have a single camera.” He leaned his head down to speak into my ear again, sending a warm, puddling feeling to move in my belly as much chest tightened. “It’s private,” He said, before licking the shell of my ear.

“Good—touch me then.” I rasped, reaching for him.

“I am.” His fingers beat another gentle pattern again, across my lower belly.

“No,” I grabbed at his hair, running my fingers through it. “ _Touch me_.”

I needed it—needed it like I’d always needed to be touched. To be felt. I fisted his hair in my hands, trying to show my urgency as my hips tilted, only for me to wail in pain.

“Let me touch you then.” He said, pushing my lower belly for emphasis. “No moving, got it? Move and this is over.” He gave me a very stern glare, which had me stilling. “This will go at  _my_  pace, Tris.”

“Fine—fine—just—” I took in a deep breath— “Take my bra off.”

He shook his head. “No.” He bent down to kiss my throat. Then lower, and lower, leaving a hot trail of gentle kisses before reaching my clavicle and licking up the side. My head tilted to give him access, a raspy groan leaving my mouth—

“Ah, no moving.”

“I can’t even mov—”

“Nope.” He laughed, moving deftly to hover over me, his elbows digging into the mattress by my head, his knees on either side of my thighs. “No moving. No arching. No grabbing. None of those cute little hip motions you do when you’re really, really starting to get into it.”

 

“Did you  _watch me masturbate?_ ” I asked, horrified.

“Yes.” He laughed, kissing an unbruised part of my face gently. “Several times.”

“Where is the techie office?” I hissed. “I’ll burn it to the ground.”

“Shhh—you’re ruining the mood.” He winked at me, then got up, looking down as he towered over me on his knees. “Where should I touch you…” His fingers trailed down my arms, his lips smiling softly as my muscles twitched in their wake. “So much skin—so little that’s not bruised…” He touched my arms some more, trailing his fingers up and down.

“Breasts—breast—their good.” So good.

“Are they?” His fingers trailed up my arms, down the sides of my body, and then played with the tight band of my bra, where it circled just under my breasts. I focused on the sensation of his fingers slipping beneath the band, trailing side to side as he hovered over me. “I heard otherwise.”

“Kiss it better, then.” I moaned, when I realized he was still deliberating.

He smiled, gently gripping the bottom of the band and lifting up, then over the mound of my breasts. He kept the bra on, so I wouldn’t move my arms, leaving the band to constrict me between my breasts and collarbone. His eyes narrowed at the sight of them, his mouth twisting down. “Hmmm—she was rather mean to you, wasn’t she?” He finger came up, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when the soft pad of his index touched the tip of my right nipple. “It’s bruised.”

“And—and the other one?” I asked. Not moving was harder than I thought it would be. My skin felt warm and alive, my breathing come in short pants to take in the way my heart was beating so fast.

“Ah, the other one.” His fingers trailed in the soft flesh of the underside of my left breast. Taunting me. “The other one is just fine. Perfect, in fact.” He bent down over me again, his dark head hovering just over my left breast. I thought, for a second, that he would put his mouth on me, but then he looked up at me, grinning. “I don’t think it needs much attention.”

“No—no it does.” I gasped. “It really does.”

“Hmmm…” I watched his tongue peak out to lick his bottom lip. “Maybe.”

I nearly screamed when his face went away, and he got back up on his knees. “Where else could I touch you though… here?” He traced the edge of my panties, from hipbone to hipbone. “Here?” His gentle fingers reached under, going around the tops of my thighs, to where I’d parted my legs. I’d frozen—not even breathing—as his finger trailed in deeper, his hand moving between my thighs. “It’s wet enough,” He taunted. “Did she also hurt you here?”

“Check.” And with that word, I lost all the breath in my lungs. I didn’t mind though, as his smile turned satisfied, and a single finger rose up into the air. He put it right down on my clit, tapping it with enough force to send a jolt through my body before he trailed that finger down my core, over my panties.

“Something is  _definitely_  going on. So much heat—so much wet.” He quickly kissed my hipbone. “But I’m no doctor.” He rose up again.

 

“ _Four!_ ” I screamed. “Stop fucking around—”

He surged on me, his body going down and his mouth finding my left nipple in a quick, suddenly movement. “Ooohhh—” His own mouth was plenty wet, plenty hot as he took my nipple into his mouth and gently sucked. As his tongue started to circle around. I found my hand running through his hair—

And he was gone. The mouth. His hair. His body. All of it. “No moving.” He reminded me.

“But—”

“No moving.” He repeated. “You’re too hurt to—”

“I thought you weren’t a doctor—” I grabbed for him, but he quickly had my wrists in his hands.

“I’ve recently acquired the position.” He gently lifted my arms above my head, towards the headboard. My fingers found themselves curled around the tight nipple. “And as your doctor, I’m telling you—don’t hurt yourself any more, Tris. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He leaned down, his mouth hovering over mine. “I’ll make you feel good.”

And then he was kissing me. Hot, bright, but also gentle. His tongue danced with mine, his hands releasing my wrists only to pin my hips down as I tried to get some friction against him. It was nothing like the demanding kiss from earlier—though it did demand, in its own right. It was a cherishing kiss, a sweet, slow, tangle of lips and tongues that seemed to stroke something inside of me. “Doctor.” I gasped, as he gave me an annoyed look, pressing on my hips more. “Something’s wrong.”

“Because you’re still trying to fucking move? Your ribs are cracked, Tris—I  _will_ stop if you can’t relax.”

 

“But something’s  _wrong_.”

“What?” Concern flashed through his eyes for the barest of seconds, before he was lifting up to look me over. He tore the sheet away and nearly got off the bed so he could look at all of me, from my feet, to my slowly lifting and parting thighs, then finally to my face.

“You gotta check.” I opened my thighs more. I knew how wet I was, knew that he could see it, through the black cotton—at least I was hoping he would.

He sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders. He let the sheet fall through his fingers. “Right. Well, you’re in luck. I’m a very special kind of doctor.”

“A gynecologist?” I asked, laughing.

“No, an orgasm doctor.” He reached forward, grabbing my underwear and then pulling them off my legs in a single, rough movement. “Very one of a kind. Now lay the fuck still.”

“Aye aye.” I smiled at him, pleased to see his considerable figure between my spread legs.

His hands roamed up and down my thighs, my calves. “Your skin is so beautiful.” He murmured, kissing one upraised knee. I said nothing, because while he was kissing my knee, his hands had come between my thighs. “Don’t move.” He warned. “Or I stop.”

And then he was touching me. One finger slipped inside me—easily—and I moaned as I took him in. He retracted his finger, only to run it up and down more core. “Oh, yeah, something’s definitely going on down here.” He murmured, biting my knee with a gentle scrape of teeth as his thumb circled round and round my throbbing clit.

“Kiss me.” I begged.

And he did. He leaned forward, capturing my lips with his own. As his tongue rose something hot and wonderful inside my chest, his fingers did the same between my thighs. And, true to his word, the second my hips tried to get into the mix, to guide his fingers where I needed them to be for the more sensation—he was up and disappearing.

“Okay—okay.” I wailed. “No more—come back—I won’t move.”

“I don’t think you can control yourself.” He said. Only the shining brightness of his eyes told me he was teasing. His face was deadly serious, his voice equally somber.

“ _Please_  Four. Please—just—touch me more. Please. I need—” I needed him. I needed him so badly I was clutching the bars of the headboard with everything I can, my body trembling so I wouldn’t get up and grab him.

“Trust—baby. This is going to be an exercise in trust.” He slowly came back forward. Not to lean over me as he had before, but to slide his legs under my thighs, his arms wrapping around my hips. I felt my heart beat even faster, as I realized what he was about to do. “Can I trust you to stay still? Can you trust me to give you what you need?”

He trailed warm, wet kisses down the inside of my thigh. Starting on the right, and going so close to my core that I moaned—highs accidentally twitching. He moved to the other thigh, going down, trailing his tongue, his lips, giving those gentle little bites. This time, I didn’t even breathe as he got close. And he stilled over me, looking up with his dazzling eyes, waiting.

The image of him there, firmly between my legs, looking up at me—

“Yes.”

And his mouth lowered. His eyes flickering shut just before the look of triumph and need filled them.

He ate like he kissed. A claiming—a demand. Pressing his entire face into me, I could feel the stubble from his chin moving against my opening as he licked at my throbbing. As he captured it between his lips, kissing it, before opening his mouth wider and sucking—just before his tongue taunted it with a few quick taps. And then his mouth was gone—and I screamed as I realized I’d lifted my hips.

“My ribs don’t even—”

“Liar.” He taunted. His lips were wet. I watched as he licked them, his heavy-lidded eyes lowered.

“You can’t either.” I moaned. “Did you really—really watch me in the bath?”

He shook his head, leaning down to kiss the skin above my opening in one, tantalizing pull. “I took the file and put it in my computer. I’ve been jacking off to it for the last three day.” His mouth descended, his tongue entering me, then exiting quickly as I tried to grind on his face. “Does that bother you?” He asked, looking up at me, rubbing his stubbled chin against my skin, right where I parted. The sensation had me shaking.

“No-o,” I moaned. “The idea of you, sitting over there, jerking off—” I closed my eyes. He’d be beautiful at it, of course. Shirtless, his stomach muscles roiling as he slouched in whatever chair he decided to sit on, his hips jerking up with the power of his thighs as he moved. “I want to see you—”

“Later.” He kissed me again, claiming me between my legs as I wailed at the sudden sensation of his tongue. “I’m a little busy at the moment.” And then he didn’t stop. Not unless I moved. It was a dangerous line. The more he got into it, the more I had to move. The more I moved, the more he pulled away. We no longer spoke, instead, he’d glare up at me—as if I’d taken something from him—and wait. As the build up started, and was dropped, and started again—he’d start biting the insides of my thighs for something to do as I tried to control myself.

Eventually I got the hang of it. If I froze, muscles locking together with every ounce of will I had, I no longer moved. It progressed after I’d learned that. Instead of building, only to leave me shaking and without anything, he built me up. Gave and took in equal measure as his tongue focused on not just my clit, but my lips and my opening. His stubble scraped and his tongue smoothed and his mouth sucked—and it was everywhere. Collected in everything. Instead of letting me have my orgasm, he’d sense it coming on and move to another part. His favorite, I’d found, was to fuck me with his tongue when I got closer and closer to the shaking, muscle-stiff bliss as he taunted my throbbing clit. And then he’d be back to it before the build up could go away, brining it back to life as if he controlled it, willing it into existence—only to let it slip back down.

Though I couldn’t move—I could speak. And I cursed him as much as I pleaded and begged. Eventually, it all fell away into a needy rush of appreciation as even his tongue-fucking did nothing to take away that shaking edge. “God yours so fucking beautiful, I want you between my legs all the time. I want to feel you inside of me. I want to see your face when you jack off to that video—I want to see how you touch yourself and I want to grab me and own me and hold me and I want—fuck, I want to ride you and look at you as I take you into me again and again—” And even that just eventually turned into sounds. Moans and cries that devolved into a kind of chant. A soft, aching “Four—”

And he kept building me up. Focusing on every aspect until there was no going back. And even as I moved—even as I squeezed his head between my thighs and ground myself against his face—he kept building. His tongue left my hole only to round and round delicate little patterns between my lips—until finally, finally taking me into his mouth as flattening his tongue against me and rubbing—

It was unlike any orgasm I’d felt before. My entire body locked into place, putting my previous locked muscles to shame. And I was rising along with the blissful feeling, my entire body arching—only to crash down as his slipped his fingers side me, as he kept rubbing and taunting. And I was nothing anymore, just shivers and sensations and a slow sinking as I finally came back to my body.

“Tris.” He breathed. And he lifted up over me as his thumb and fingers kept up their slow, aching teasing. As he kept me a shivering, melted pile of flesh and sensation.

The taste of me on him—and the work of his thumb—brought me back to that precipice quicker than I’d ever been. I shattered around him, crying out into his mouth as he ravished. “Again.” He demanded, his fingers and thumb leaving me for his palm to replace it.

 I shook, “I can’t.” I wailed.

“Again, baby.” And his mouth trailed down quickly, to grab and pull at my left breast. He wasn’t gentle. His teeth scraped as he sucked in hard—and his palm made delicious circles—and I fell again. Till there was nothing left. Not even the shaking.

He worked me through it, seeming to sense when the sensations got to be too much. And when I was nothing more than deep breaths and quivering muscles, he lay next to me in bed, his hand soothing through my hair.

I wondered what it would feel like inside of me. Wonderful, I was sure. If his mouth was half as good as his cock, it would feel wonderful. I tried to reach for him, but my muscles weren’t working quiet right. I couldn’t even lift up my arms from the bars of his headboard.

“Four.” My tongue was heavy. My eyelids were heavy. I should probably help him. I could feel his hardness resting by my hip, touching me through the fabric of his jeans.

“Shhh, baby. Rest.” His lips found my temple. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a Veronica Roth quote


End file.
